The First of Many
by odd-gelato
Summary: For Drake Mallard, Father's Day usually came and went unnoticed. This year is different.


_i wrote this in like a couple hours max today so it has minimal proofreading but it's short so it's probably fine_

* * *

The last time Drake celebrated Father's Day, he was eight years old, and it was, as always, at the behest of his mother. By the time the next June after that rolled around, he knew more about hospitals and loss than a child should have to, and his mother was no longer there to tell him he should appreciate his father. And the more time passed, the less Drake saw any reason to.

His dad never paid attention to dates anyway.

Eventually, Drake stopped paying attention, too.

* * *

At 10 a.m. on a Sunday in mid-June, something heavy landed on Drake's stomach as he lay sleeping in bed.

" _Wake up, sleepyhead_!" a voice shouted, much louder than should have been possible.

Drake's eyes flew open. Gosalyn was on top of him, her knees digging into his soft gut and a megaphone in her hand. He opened his mouth to reprimand her, and only managed a pained wheeze.

Gosalyn grinned and bounced off him, then grabbed his arm and tried to tug him out of bed. When he groaned and pulled away, she lifted the megaphone to her beak again. " _GET UP! LET'S GO!_ "

Drake sat up, rubbing his eyes. "This is a rude awakening, even for you," he grumbled. "What is it, some sort of special occasion?"

"Well, _duh_!" Gosalyn replied, successfully dragging him out of bed this time. "Come on, Launchpad made pancakes!"

Blearily, he allowed Gosalyn to lead him down the stairs and into the kitchen. The table was set, and there was a tall stack of pancakes teetering in the center. Launchpad was at the stove, making even more.

"I don't think there's enough pancakes," Drake remarked.

"Really?" Launchpad asked. "I thought I made a lot."

"We're celebrating!" Gosalyn said, towing Drake to the table. "That calls for as many pancakes as possible!"

"Celebrating-?" Drake began, but was cut off when Gosalyn shoved him into a chair.

"I'll be right back," she said before bolting out of the kitchen. Moments later, she returned holding something flat and rectangular. She handed it to him, beaming from ear to ear.

It was a small package, wrapped in colorful paper. On top of it was an unmarked envelope. He stared blankly.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" Gosalyn asked, hands on her hips. "Open it!"

Drake glanced at her. She was practically vibrating with excitement, but there was a hint of nervous energy in there, too. He picked up the envelope and broke the seal, then slid the card out.

It was a Father's Day card.

"Oh," he said numbly.

Gosalyn tapped her finger on the box. "C'mon, now the gift!"

Hands moving on autopilot, he unwrapped the present to reveal a plain brown box. He lifted the lid. Inside was the ugliest tie he'd ever seen.

"Launchpad helped me pick it out," Gosalyn said, which explained everything. Her expression became uncertain. "Do you… like it?"

His vision blurred, the awful paisley pattern of the tie becoming sickly splotches. "I love it," he said, his voice cracking.

He hadn't been Gosalyn's guardian for very long – not long enough to start thinking about holidays, especially not the little ones like Father's Day. Suddenly, it all became very real in a way it hadn't before, not even when he'd finished signing all that paperwork. This was going to be a lasting thing, this was his _life_ now. There were going to be Thanksgivings and Christmases and… oh god, what other holidays were there? He wanted to do all of them, wanted to celebrate everything he possibly could with this little girl. _His_ little girl.

His family.

Gosalyn put a hand on his knee, and he inhaled sharply, remembering he needed to breathe. "Are you okay, Dad?" she asked.

 _Dad_.

Instead of replying, he picked her up and pulled her into a tight hug. She squeaked in surprise, and then slung her arms around his neck and hugged him back. He clung to her like his life depended on it – and it did, it really did. That should have been a terrifying thought, maybe, but he didn't care. He couldn't ask for anything better.

A huge pair of arms wrapped around the both of them, and they were lifted out of the chair and into Launchpad's crushing embrace. The three of them stayed like that for a few moments, and then the smell of smoke started to fill the kitchen.

"Oh no!" Launchpad exclaimed, dropping Drake and Gosalyn. "The pancakes!"

Ten panicked minutes later, they were sitting on the front porch, eating pancakes as they waited for the house to air out.

"Sorry I almost burned down the kitchen again, D.W.," Launchpad said between heaping mouthfuls. "Especially on Father's Day."

Any other time, Drake would have chewed him out over kitchen safety, but he was in too good a mood right then. "Don't worry, L.P.," he replied. "Everything is perfect."


End file.
